Harry and the Pool Boy
by LynstHolin
Summary: SEXY DRARRY AU Non-magical universe. On a trip to Hawaii, 18-year-old Harry Potter encounters a very sexy blond hotel employee. Written for Drarryweek on that blog site whose name starts with T and ends with R.


Warning: PWP. Oh, and two men having sex. I mean, I shouldn't need to add the second sentence there, but there was a Guest who seemed shocked that there was sex. So, everyone, there will be sex. With people having sex.

...

"Wow, that's amazing. You must be really smart to study that." The blond pool boy had his back to Harry, but the way he was sticking his round little bottom out as he skimmed the pool made it clear that he wanted Harry's attention. Those booty shorts didn't hide very much. "Are you going to be a guest at this hotel long?" They were in Hawaii, but the boy spoke with a posh British accent. That sweet rear-end wiggled in a clear invitation, and Harry had to put his book down on his lap.

Harry looked around, trying to spot the hidden camera. This had to be some sort of joke. Had his friends set him up? They had taken off for Maui that morning, leaving Harry behind on Oahu, supposedly because Harry had slept through his wake-up call. But what if his wake-up call, unbeknownst to him, had been cancelled? What if his friends had bribed the pool boy to fawn all over Harry so they could laugh at him? Hmmm... That seemed like a lot of work, really, and Harry didn't see a pay-off in the joke, since his friends knew he was gay. "I'll be here another three days," Harry said. He took a swig of his Coke, wishing he was of age to drink alcohol in the States.

If the pool boy _had _been recruited for a joke, he had been chosen well. He was exactly Harry's type- skinny, with pointy elbows and knobby knees, but still in possession of a peachy arse. The face was also perfect: sharp cheekbones, sly eyes, and a sexy, smirky mouth. Harry hoped that the youth was wearing a good sun-screen- that smooth, white skin would burn badly in the tropical sun. The pool-boy's flaxen hair was caught back in a messy pony-tail, baring the tender nape of his neck and a triangular cluster of moles. He leaned out to snag a candy wrapper that had drifted toward the center of the pool, bending so that Harry could see his balls outlined through the fabric of those ridiculously tiny shorts. The book on Harry's lap started to rise.

So, here Harry was, sitting poolside at the most expensive hotel in Honolulu with a boner that could break concrete. It probably wasn't what his parents were expecting when they had given him the trip as a reward for getting into a decent university. A week in Hawaii, followed by a month in Japan. Just three rather spoiled British boys from well-to-do families, completely off the parental leash for the first time in their lives: Harry and the Black brothers. Then his friends abandoned him, leaving him with a sexy boy who was acting impressed that Harry was going to study forensic science. It _had _to be an act. When the pool-boy looked over his shoulder at Harry, there was a foxy glint in those smoky eyes that told Harry that the blond was not so dumb.

The pool-boy turned around and stood hip-shot right in front of Harry, and the book was bounced right off of Harry's lap. Good god... the boy was just standing there shamelessly half-hard in broad daylight, the plumped-up head of his cock perfectly visible through his shorts. "I'm almost done working. Can I come to your room?"

There wasn't much blood flowing to Harry's brain. "Yes. Yes. Suite 1501," was all he could say.

The boy hooked a thumb in the waistband of his shorts, revealing the edge of a tattoo. "I'll be there in half an hour. Have a bottle of good champagne, lube, and protection." As he walked away, he pulled his hair loose from its pony-tail and shook it out. Now Harry had to get to his room while hiding an erection that felt bigger than a double-decker bus.

...

Forty-five minutes later, Harry was watching the blond loll on his bed in unzipped jeans, drinking straight from the champagne bottle. "Come on, what's your name?" The boy just gazed at Harry with half-closed eyes and suggestively licked the bottle's neck. "Why won't you tell me?"

"Are names necessary?" The blond laid down and dribbled champagne on his small, pink nipples. He gave Harry an impatient look. "Get over here."

Onanistic fantasies were one thing; having a living, breathing wet dream ordering one around was something completely different. Harry's previous sexual experience was limited to a few awkward fumbles. He was considered good-looking, but he just wasn't good with relationship stuff. Not that this was anything close to a relationship. He walked to the bed and sat down on the edge.

"Lick it off," the blond commanded as he slopped more champagne onto his bare torso. Harry obeyed. A nipple hardened under his tongue, making Harry's cock surge inside his shorts. He licked up to the collar-bone and down to the other nipple, then down the stomach to the navel, all the while marveling at how amazingly soft the pale skin was. The hands that pulled Harry's shirt off were soft, too; this pool-boy seemed more like a pampered pet than a manual laborer.

The open fly of the boy's jeans showed a tuft of gilded hair and just a hint of cock-head. He took one of Harry's hands and guided it in, sucking in his breath a little as Harry's fingers skimmed across the heated velvet surface of his erection. Harry tentatively wrapped his hand around it. The blond boy laughed softly. "Handle it like you handle your own. It's not going to break off."

Harry tightened his grip and moved his hand up and down, mouth open as he watched the effect it had on the other boy, the foreskin retracting as the head grew shiny and purple, a drop of clear liquid forming on the top. The pool-boy sighed happily and closed his eyes as Harry experimented, moving fast, then slow, sometimes twisting a little... using every little trick he had learned from touching himself. Which he was doing now, clutching himself through his shorts.

The blond opened his eyes again. He pushed his jeans off, lifting his hips, and tossed them on the floor. For the very first time, Harry had a completely naked boy in his bed. The tattoo on his hip said, 'Love will tear us apart.' He spread his legs up and out, giving Harry an excellent view of _everything_: the lovely, dripping lavender-tinted cock, the balls drawn up tight, and and a little pink hole that the boy circled with one finger. "Have you ever done someone in the arse before?"

Harry shook his head. "But- but I want to," he blurted out. Oh, did he ever want to.

The other boy laughed again. "Where's the lube and the condoms, then?" With shaking hands, Harry took them from the bedside table. The blond yanked Harry's shorts off, then tore a condom packet open with his teeth. He placed it carefully in his mouth and, grasping the base of Harry's erection, rolled it on skillfully. Jesus, if merely having the boy put a condom on him was that good, how good was the actual sex going to be?

At first, it seemed like it wouldn't be very good at all. Harry had enjoyed the lubing up; it felt amazing when the other boy had rubbed the clear goo on top of the condom he wore. But when Harry crouched over the blond and tried to enter him, it got awkward. "Ow! Not so fast! That's- not that hard yet!"

Harry started to pull away. "Maybe this isn't a good id-" He found himself being rolled over onto his back.

The pool-boy smirked down at Harry. "Let me do it." Harry could once again see _everything_ as the other boy eased himself down, slowly accepting Harry's length. "Touch me," he ordered. All Harry had to do was wrap his hand around the other boy's erection; as he rode Harry, he fucked Harry's fist, the tip submerging in Harry's fist and re-emerging, its head dark purple and slick. He leaned forward, his long hair in Harry's face, then tossed his head back, moving faster. Harry hoped that the blond would come soon, because, between how it felt and how it looked, he wasn't sure how long he would be able to hold back, himself.

Those smoky eyes went dark, and the white skin flushed all over as the blond worked his hips into a new angle against Harry's, going into small but rapid movements, obviously hitting just the right spot. His entire body seemed to vibrate as he came, and Harry came with him, shouting wordlessly.

When they were finally able to talk again, the blond looked up at the wall above the head of the bed and laughed. "The maid is going to hate us."

"That's some impressive distance you achieved there. It's a good thing walls can't get pregnant." Now that they'd had sex, Harry felt more relaxed around the blond, even though he wasn't any less perfect, with his hair tousled and his whole body shiny with sweat and his eyes heavy with satisfaction. "So, are you going to tell me your name? Or do I have to bother the other employees until they tell me?"

The boy gave Harry a quick nip on the shoulder before answering. "I'm not really a pool-boy."

"Really? You're not?"

"I'm not. I was bored, and you're cute, and I wanted to play."

Harry sighed. "I should have guessed. Who are you then, Not-A-Pool-Boy?"

"My name is Draco Malfoy."

Harry sat up abruptly, nearly knocking Draco off the bed. "One of _those _Malfoys? Of Malfcorp?"

"My father is Lucius."

_Bloody hell_. Harry had just fucked the son of a man who was at the top of the Fortune 500, a man who was so rich and powerful that he owned a couple of island nations, a man rumored to have all sorts of underworld ties... the man who was trying to buy out the Potter family's company. "Was this a good thing for me to have done?" Harry wondered.

Draco shrugged. "You're fine as long as my father doesn't find out."

_I'm going to die_, Harry thought. Well, he might as well make it worth his while. He was sure he could go at least one more time before morning, and maybe he could even be on top.


End file.
